Set The Scene To The Night
by ImpossibleElement
Summary: He hates working, mind you, and the early hours are brutal, but the regular customer he has at 7:05 am every day, well him he doesn't hate.


**Set The Scene To The Night**

John loves working the morning shift. He hates working, mind you, and the early hours are brutal, but the regular customer he has at 7:05 am every day, well _him_ he doesn't hate. He had met the mysterious man the day he apparently moved in to his new flat at Baker Street, close enough to the coffee shop to come in and grab a _'black, two sugars'_ before the movers arrived. Ever since that time, he comes every morning, orders the same thing and sometimes, when he doesn't have a case, he stays for a bit to exchange a line or two with John. Sadly, never his name, he refuses to give John something to call him other than 'cheekbones' -which earns him a blush from the younger man every time he refers to him as such, he's not complaining- but he really wishes he knew the name of the young man who makes his days brighter with his sharp wit and surprisingly silly humour.

The days are getting closer and closer to Christmas, and this time of the year really makes John want to run away; to leave everything behind and never comeback. He used to be an army surgeon, but injury brought him back to London before his tour was over. He didn't really have any family, he hadn't even talked to Harry in months, so he had been left to fend on his own. Now he is stuck here, with no possibility of working as a doctor, and wasting his days away in a coffee shop where nothing exciting happens, except Cheekbones, of course.

He is mystery on walking legs. At first the doctor didn't really know what to make of him, yet after a few short conversations he pieced together something: Cheekbones is a stray too. He doesn't really have a lot of friends, and seems to be more interested in working alone than having conversation with real people. Which always makes John feel honoured and confused as to why he is the exception to that rule. He figures a man like the detective must at least have someone with whom he can spend Christmas, but he wishes he could spend it with him.

As if on cue, the younger man enters the shop at 7:05, as is his usual routine. He smiles at John when he sees him behind the counter and makes his way over.

John finishes putting on the lid on his coffee before he even reaches the counter. "There you go, Cheekbones." The blonde extends his hand and winks charmingly at the detective, who then proceeds to bite his beautiful lips and blush. "Black, two sugars." He confirms and cherishes the pleased expression the other makes once he takes a sip from his hot brew.

"Perfect, as always." The brunette says, and John grins, knowing that usually the genius doesn't give out compliments. The shop is almost always empty at this hour, so the mysterious man sits himself on the stool in the counter and glances around, as if he had nothing better to do than to stay there with John. The doctor can't be more happy for it.

A few minutes later, once he has invited Cheekbones his second cup of coffee, and the younger man is wearing the reindeer antlers they use for decoration on top of his curls, the ex-soldier dares to ask. "So, are you doing anything for Christmas?" He tries to sound nonchalant, but realises he is fooling no one by the raised eye-brow on the other's face.

"Nothing." Cheekbones answers. He shrugs in an uncharacteristically apprehensive manner, as if he were ashamed that he hasn't make plans for the holidays. "I- no." John knows he should be sad that he doesn't have anyone special around to appreciate him like that, but can't help to feel terribly glad about it. This meant the blonde had a clear chance to achieve what he wanted with the next question.

"Would you like to?" He boldly asks, and the other is still startled by the question, even if they both knew it was coming. "Let me make you dinner at my flat." He suggests, completely aware that his flat wasn't much and will probably not make a brilliant impression. He knew the other man won't judge him for it, in fact, curious as he was, he would probably find it fascinating for some reason.

The detective smiles, and does that thing with his lips he always does when he is pleased. John thinks he knows most of the other's expressions by know, after having flirted with the man every day for more than four months now.

"Or," John offers another alternative. "We could leave everything behind and just run away together." He says, not really sure whether he is actually joking. Maybe it could work, maybe if they were together they wouldn't feel the need to escape at all. John guesses he will have to wait and see.

"Wouldn't that be something?" He answers, and suddenly his eyes go a bit wistful. As if he is also imagining what would that be like. ' _A matter for another moment, perhaps.'_ John thinks.

"Seriously, I just need one thing from you." The blonde says, leaning in on the counter to get closer to the younger, blushing man. "Your name." The coffee man explained, with just the right amount of challenge and attraction.

"Oh, um.." The brunette mumbles, his eyes looking around the shop for ideas. "Dasher." He says, as he seems to remember the ridiculous antlers on his head, grinning mischievously at John. Said doctor rolls his eyes, and acts as if he's dismissing the whole situation. After a few seconds the detective offers: "Sherlock."

John doesn't quite know what he is being given, so he asks dumbly. "Sorry, what?" He says and now is the other's turn to roll his eyes.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes." He repeats and extends his hand to meet the other's in a handshake.

John is happy, glad to finally know the name of such a beautiful man. "Nice to meet you, Sherlock." He says and loves the way it sounds coming out of his mouth, he can easily get used to it. "I like your name." He comments truthfully.

Sherlock blushes for the third time that morning, and laughs. "I thought you would." He says as he fidgets with some of the straws on the counter.

"But don't worry," John quickly starts, and also takes the things away from his soon-to-be-date's fingers. "For me, you'll always be Cheekbones." He says, as he places the straws in the cup where they belong.

Author's note:

A couple of stratospheric strays.

Inspired by the unreleased son Dasher from Gerard Way.

Let me know if you enjoyed it.


End file.
